


The Jasmine Dragon

by razielim



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Ba Sing Se, Fix-It, M/M, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 17,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razielim/pseuds/razielim
Summary: Zuko wakes up with the sun, practices his firebending in secret, and opens the tea shop, hoping to see his new favorite customer.
Relationships: Aang/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 192
Kudos: 661





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, we die like men. I'm trying this new thing called "stay up late and write while sleep-deprived and barely functioning to stir up the ol' creative juices that have long lain dormant and then fucking post immediately."

Uncle Iroh had asked to sleep in today.

The other business owners of the street had suggested a music night, one thing led to another, and the last words out of the old man's mouth before collapsing out cold had been, "You'll have to be the Jasmine Dragon Prince _without_ my wise counsel, nephew."

...which Zuko took to mean his uncle was going to be quite useless the next morning.

The morning was particularly beautiful, the sort his uncle would have commemorated with song or poetry if he was awake, and Zuko wondered if it was enough to _acknowledge_ that poetry was called for on such a brilliantly golden occasion or if he actually had to rack his brain for the fitting words themselves. He paused several times through his morning flow, trying to think of at least _something_ , but the words never came.

He felt stupid.

It was easier to simply focus on his training.

Deep in Ba Sing Se, his use of fire was snuffed. If anyone were to peek on him in their apartment, the most suspicious thing the city's spies would have seen were his strange unearthlike poses. On the surface of his skin, however, fueled by his every breath, heat shimmered. He carefully kept the heat away from his lower body where it would singe his pants and blister the floor, instead keeping it roiling in angry swaths across his back and shoulders, down and back up his arms.

Was it firebending at sunrise or the long years of living with Iroh that was stirring up the poetry he had so little aptitude for?

A nearby tower struck the hour and Zuko slumped out of his pose, frustrated with the many questions he had too early in the morning, disturbing his peaceful practice time. Feeling some of the old adolescent irritation clawing at his chest and throat, bothered by the dust hovering in the rapidly heating morning, he kicked absently at nothing as he walked to the bathhouse in the back garden.

Nowhere in the Earth Kingdom was safe from the oppressive feeling of dust trying to colonize the lungs, not even the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se.

Baths helped, though. Zuko couldn't get enough of baths.

Opening the shop was easy enough.

Zuko's interest in tea had always been minimal, at best. Tea was warming on a cold night and a taste of home if you put together the right blend. The _nuances_ hardly concerned him. Still, it was impossible to live around Iroh long enough to absorb his poetic impulses without also developing an innate sense of the timing needed for perfect tea.

He made the space presentable and welcoming, heated water, and began brewing as the first regulars started drifting in, asking after each other's health and exchanging news.

When they had first moved to the Upper Ring, he had suspected that he would need to make more of an effort at smiling. What passed in the Lower Ring would likely not be good enough for the aristocracy. Instead, he had found that what had been merely tolerated in the Lower Ring was downright sought after in their new establishment. Instead of hearing occasional patronizing reprimands from uppity city guards for being surly and not taking more pride in his work, the clientele here seemed to see his unsmiling face as more of a blank canvas upon which to paint their thoughts and their expectations of validation. The less he talked, the more they projected, and the more they saw a friendly face.

He raised his eyebrow at the gossip Administrator Lee was telling him, only half listening.

Bliss shimmered across the old man's face in response. "You see, my boy, I knew you'd understand! Impossible! Absolutely impossible. Reckless, even! How could he have done such a thing?"

Still chuckling, Administrator Lee turned back to his table of officials as another man spoke up about his troubles, and Zuko slipped to the next table of guests.

In many ways, living in Ba Sing Se was like being a ghost. Whether a blank ghost was inhabiting a former prince's body or the prince's ghost was inhabiting the body of a peasant too stupid to behave like a prince, he wasn't sure, but about the only time he felt like a whole person anymore was when he was firebending at sunrise, and even that had become invisible and fleeting by necessity.

The other time he thought he might still be a real person... was whenever Aang walked in the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Aang was a young man in his early twenties with no visible identifying marks.

Zuko wasn't quite sure what it is Aang _did_ , and, for his part, Aang didn't seem to know either.

As far as Zuko could get out of him... the man got up to shenanigans for a living. He played board games in the park with many of the officials, pulled silly pranks with the help of local young boys and any particularly rebellious young girls, and spent a lot of time happily watching the clouds go by.

Zuko was obsessed.

_Where do you live? Oh, in a really cool house about halfway between here and the palace! You should come see it sometime!_

_How did you end up living there? Oh, you know, I did some favors for some people, and they set me up!_

_What sort of favors? I like helping people! I've got a way with conflict resolution!_

No matter how Zuko probed, the answers were always less than satisfying. And he was certainly doing more probing than he'd ever previously bothered with in his life.

Put another way...

Aang was a breath of fresh air in the tea shop because it made absolutely no sense for someone like him to live in the Upper Ring, let alone drop by a local tea shop. As far as Zuko could tell, Aang had no family, no close friends in the aristocracy, no occupation, and he was at least a decade or two younger than the rest of the shop's clientele, aside from the occasional group of young women who would come in when they needed a place to gossip where no one else would care about their particular troubles.

Zuko could really, _really_ use a breath of fresh air in this dust-bowl of a country.

It was midday when Aang strolled in, an even bigger pep in his step than normal.

Extricating himself as smoothly as possible from his current conversation, Zuko came over to greet him, mouth already involuntarily turning up at the corners in response to the beaming smile he was immediately treated to. Just slightly. Work was no place to do anything drastic with his facial muscles.

"Hey, Zuko, guess what?" Aang jumped in with the usual lack of Upper Ring decorum. "I saw that waterbending lady again today! I tried asking her about it, but she said I was mistaken. That's weird, huh?"

Zuko stopped, frowning, thinking back on the person Aang had told him about. Brunette. Aang had seen her bending over the railing of a bridge and making the stream rock back and forth in its bed with her hand.

"What exactly... is weird?" he asked.

"Well, it's weird because now I'm not so sure about what I saw last week. She said she'd also thought it looked like the water was moving with her motions, which is why she had leaned over for a better look, but it was just the wind. But it's also weird because I was so certain. Do you think it's possible to be a waterbender and not even know it?"

Zuko raised his brow.

Aang waited.

Aang always waited for an answer from him. Another characteristic that set him apart from all other denizens in the Upper Ring. Except Uncle Iroh.

"I think... you'd have to ask someone who knows about such things," Zuko finally replied.

Aang nodded, pouting severely and stroking his chin.

"That's a good point. I'll have to ask some earthbenders when they realized and if they know any late bloomers. Thanks, Zuko!"

"No problem. Did you want something to drink?"

"Oh, yeah!"

Zuko waited patiently as Aang talked himself through his decision. He set the tea to steep, helped other clients, and came back with the pot and cup, armed with a fresh batch of questions.

"So, you're not a bender yourself?" he asked, eyeing Aang as he poured the cup.

"Oh, no! That would be cool, though! Stomp! And _bam_ \- you've got yourself a goal! Stomp! You've got a ball! Now you're ready to play a game and it's going to be a great day. Although..." Aang leaned in and lowered his voice, looking up through his lashes with a devilish squint, "I've already got goalposts and a ball in my yard. So I'm all set."

"What about the girl? Are you friends with her now?"

"Oh, yeah! We're going to go to the festival together next week. Her and her older brother. I haven't met him, but I hope he doesn't think it's a date and try to beat me up! I just like going to festivals with friends."

"I see."

"Say..." Aang scratched at his chin again, pulling on Zuko's sleeve. "I could actually use your help. Now that I'm thinking about it, she might have been asking me out. If I brought a friend with me, then her brother would see I mean no harm. What do you say, Zuko? Would you like to take this leap into deepening our friendship?"

Zuko resisted feeling amused as hard as he could and tried to redirect his energy into pulling a grimace. Likely a very amused grimace, unfortunately.

"You don't want to date this girl?"

"Maybe I do! I don't know. But I don't want to get off on the wrong foot with her brother either way, see?"

"I see what you mean," Zuko said slowly, nodding. "Fair enough. I'll go."

"Great! It'll be nice to make some more friends my age."

Zuko had been about to turn away, having noticed another customer attempting to flag his attentions, and instead stopped, remembering his question-asking mission. "How old are most of your friends now?"

Aang looked sheepish. "They're all either five or fifty years old. I just can't seem to hit that golden middle."

"Yeah, that sounds familiar."


	3. Chapter 3

Growing up a prince, there was imperative to wear ceremonial dress at least once every week, and the rest of the time was of course spent in robes of less elaborate but nevertheless fine silk.

Living as a tea shop employee, Zuko couldn't remember the last time he had worn anything other than his shop robes when stepping out of the apartment. Work? Shop robes. Errands? Shop robes. Festival? He was always employed as a vendor and serving tea so, yup, still shop robes. Zuko meant to go in his shop robes to this event as well, to maintain a connection to something which had grown to be a second skin.

Uncle Iroh, ever clairvoyant with regard to Zuko's impulses, hid all sets of Zuko's daily uniform.

Three hours of furious scavenging in every crack of their apartments didn't turn up a single thread. With no other choice, he slipped into the festival robes his uncle had gifted him for the occasion.

Though far from the sublime silks of a prince, it was still strange to once again be wearing something new rather than the soft fabric of a garment lovingly and painstakingly broken in with regular use and labor.

"I look ridiculous."

"You look princely," murmured a content Iroh over a bowl of tea.

Zuko tugged at the collar, readjusting the folded front of the robe. "Good joke, Uncle," he muttered, "Azula would die laughing."

Iroh's smile grew. "It is not the robes that make you princely. Now go, or you'll be late."

Ba Sing Se's festival for the autumnal equinox started early in the day, while the air still retained some crispness. Many tents and coverings were already set up to shield against the sun once it rose higher, and they billowed rich green and pale blue with flashes of gold over Zuko's head as he sat on the brim of the pool that ran through the center of the grounds, looking for Aang. Couples lingered near the water, feeding each other apple slices.

Looking around, Zuko thought of his father. His father's father. The inheritance of believing the Fire Nation was happier, wealthier than any other nation, believing in the generosity of their actions, conquering other lands. Ba Sing Se's festival looked no less prosperous and content than any Capital City festival. Even more impressive, it managed such abundance and refinement while situated in the middle of a war-torn country, a circumstance no Fire Lord has had to face. If he squinted and imagined all the robes around him shimmering red and black rather than green and white, he could almost believe he'd finally returned where he belonged. Except perhaps that there was more laughter in this city than he had ever known back home, even when he and Iroh had only just arrived and were living in the financially precarious Lower Ring.

Zuko jerked out of his thoughts when he saw Aang heading his way, smiling and waving.

He waved back.

...only to see Aang stop ten yards away next to one of the couples and start chatting animatedly.

Blushing and groaning, Zuko turned his wave into rubbing his face.

He stood and walked to the group. This time, when Aang waved, Zuko merely smiled slightly, just to be safe. But Aang jogged over to grab hold of his hand and pull him closer to the others faster.

"Katara, this is my good friend Zuko. I invited him to join us today! Zuko, this is Katara and her brother Sokka."

Good friend?

Zuko made more of an effort to smile and shook hands with the siblings. Up close, he was starting to think maybe Aang was onto something, thinking the woman was a waterbender. He was by no means an expect on ethnicity, but they looked even less like Earth Kingdom citizens than he did. Certainly not born into the city's aristocracy. Had they also started off in this city as refugees and elevated their status to the Upper Ring?

The siblings greeted him warmly, but he soon found himself trailing behind the others as Aang set his sights on one food stall or activity after another. Katara was equal parts delighted and curious about everything, childlike and carefree, sticking close to Aang's side. Her brother turned out to be somewhat suspicious of romantic potential of the outing after all, regardless of Zuko's presence, needling Aang for details of his employment with little to no tact, but the man appeared to also be easygoing by nature, easily distracted by the smells, tastes, and wonders of a festival. Zuko, however, in the presence of so much commotion, sank deeper than ever into feelings of ghostliness.

How long had he been exiled here? When he had first been banished, he had kept track of days with precious accuracy, each new day hurting distinctly. Now the years seemed to have flown by. He'd been caught of guard when Iroh had one day mentioned living in Ba Sing Se for ten years. Another two years had passed since then. And still life felt to be in some sort of limbo. The peace and prosperity that Iroh valued and expressed gratitude for continued to feel like a purgatory to Zuko. Sometimes, in those early years, he'd had brief flashes of intense hope - acquiring a new destiny in a new country. Over time, it had dawned on him. In quiet, slow moments pouring tea for paying clients, he realized that he had no destiny. The future would never be any different than the present.

He had ventured out of his shell to spend time with people his age. He had encountered a bright light in Aang's relentlessly friendly personality. He'd almost thought today would be different. He thought he would talk, he thought he would be interested in the two siblings he was meeting.

Instead, he found his emotions draining out from him, leaving him deflated and cold even to Aang's sunny smiles in his direction. As he dragged his feet behind the group, his thoughts grew gloomier. Bitter despite himself at being left out of the good mood, he started wishing that Aang would never return to the tea shop. Sure, he was more interesting and observant than the rest of the clients, but in the end, he belonged to the Upper Ring after all. Having his own fun with his new friends, he was more than content to leave Zuko drowning in loneliness in this big crowd.

Sokka passed him a skewer of spiced apple slices with a bright smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Zuko smiled just as politely in turn, and wished he'd never agreed to come.

They stopped under a willow to chat and eat their apples. Watching a green silk banner struggle against the branches it was tangled up in, Zuko thought about the expense that Iroh had gone to for today, hiring help and purchasing the robe Zuko was wearing. It was a drop in the ocean as far as their old royal expenses went, but establishing and maintaining a tea shop from scratch in the Upper Ring, every copper coin counted. Zuko swung wildly between guilt for disappointing his uncle who had hoped he would have a good time and anger that his uncle had pushed him to come and be in such an uncomfortable situation.

"Zuko, what do you do when you're not at the shop?" Aang asked from closer than Zuko expected.

Turning, he saw Aang at his side, lightly fanning himself, with no sign of the siblings.

"Where did Katara and Sokka go?"

"Katara saw a friend and went over to go talk." Aang turned his fan on Zuko, sending a blessed breeze his way. "So, what do you do for fun?"

"I... I don't really do anything. The shop is open most of the day, and there's a lot to clean and wash when it closes."

"Oh. That's too bad." Aang sniffed and wiggled his nose. "I'm trying to find a sparring partner. I've been feeling very stiff lately."

"Actually..." Zuko kicked himself as he spoke, having just minutes ago been hoping to see less of Aang in the future, and yet unable to stop himself from this one last leap of faith. "I could use a sparring partner myself. It's been a while since I've had anyone to practice with aside from my uncle."

"Really?" Aang treated him to a toothy grin. "That's perfect. You should come by my house tomorrow evening! I'll give you directions when I come by for tea in the morning."

Zuko forced an uncomfortable smile, already regretting his decision, watching as Katara and her brother made their way back through drooping willow strands. Following his gaze, Aang turned to see them too.

"Don't worry," he said, lowering his voice as he turned back to Zuko, "it'll just be us."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk guys, rating might be subject to change, but I'm not in the mood to write sex scenes lately, in case you're wondering why this is uncharacteristically T+ rather than my usual M+. I might have used up all my erotic energy for the year with all the porn I drew back in March. Venus is in retrograde right now anyway.
> 
> The more of this fic that I type, the more I feel like the concussion which has plagued my ability to remember words and form sentences for the past eight months is finally clearing up. I wonder if I'm somehow doing something which is truly very healing. The final step to a full recovery. It's still frustrating sometimes. 
> 
> I've been thinking a lot about how my original tumblr tag I used for fics the first year of writing (2013?) was "Gabriel can't write" and how the people who enjoyed my work asked me to please use something that was more confident. So I changed it to "Gabriel writes a lot" or something. But there was a lot of freedom in that first tag, I think, looking back on it. When you say you can't write, everything you write and enjoy writing is a win. When you say you _can_ write, that's a lot to live up to...

Zuko had hoped that Uncle Iroh would resist letting him run off early the next evening. Knowing the man well, he had known this wouldn't be the case, but a resistant, anxious hermit can hope.

He showed up at Aang's impressive residence still in his shop clothes.

Looking around at the structure, its generously allotted plot of land, he was more curious than ever before. Could it be that Aang was actually the son of an important official, living independently despite not even being married yet? How important do you have to be to pull such strings in the Upper Ring?

Aang threw the door open at his knocking.

"You're here! Perfect. Let's warm up! Do you want to spar indoors or outside?"

"Um," Zuko tried to think as he took in the spacious interior, "inside, I suppose."

"Oh, you're still wearing your shop clothes!" Aang noticed his outfit and pulled at Zuko's sleeve to give it a critical eye. "You could have stopped by your home to change, I wouldn't have minded starting later."

He really was going to have plenty of time to regret coming here a million times over, wouldn't he? Zuko rubbed at his hair, self-consciousness surging. "I was actually thinking I'd just take off a layer. I've got a limited wardrobe."

"Oh! I understand that. I don't need much clothing either. It's practical, since you spend so much time at the shop," Aang concluded with a wise nod, still tugging at Zuko's sleeve to pull him into the house.

Zuko allowed himself to be drawn forward, following Aang's lead as he began stretching.

"I wanted to apologize about the festival," Aang began, "I saw you lagging behind, but I couldn't think of what to do or how to help. Do you not like crowds?"

Zuko stopped moving and fiddled uncomfortably with the buttons of his tunic.

"It's not crowds. I just... don't have much to contribute," he admitted, wanting to say more, unburden himself, but not knowing where to even start. He instead pulled his tunic off.

"I suppose that's true. You're very thoughtful. It's hard to talk a lot when you think a lot," said Aang and folded over in half.

Zuko paused in folding his garment, staring at the back of Aang's head as it serenely reached for the floor, seemingly oblivious of the validation bomb its words had just dropped.

"Living here, I think it would be better to talk more than think more," he said quietly, setting his tunic aside and reaching his arms behind to open up his chest.

"I don't think so. Forcing yourself to talk more when you don't know what you _want_ to say is a recipe for dissatisfaction. Better to just bide your time. But it's also easier to know what to say when there's just one person to talk to."

Zuko nodded. "That's certainly the case."

Stopping his movements, Aang smiled brightly. "To tell you the truth, I'm feeling ready to go whenever you are."

"Good." Zuko dropped into his stance. "I'm not one for stretching all day anyway."

Leisurely, Aang dropped into his own posture. Strangely, his looked no more like Earth Kingdom martial arts than Zuko's own.

Zuko made the first move.

He struck several times in quick succession, pivoting around Aang, traversing the other man's non-dominant side, aiming both high and low, perhaps too aggressively in his nervousness traversing uncharted waters, feeling that at any moment he would have to pull back to avoid unsportsmanlike damage.

Aang, barely moving, dodged every blow.

Zuko threw up a guard and stepped away in surprise, searching Aang's serene expression.

"You're _good_ ," he said and felt only a little guilty for how incredulous his voice sounded.

"Oh, yeah!" Aang replied breezily, dropping his stance somewhat to beam at Zuko with full earnestness, "I'm _very_ good."

 _Not good enough to maintain discipline,_ thought Zuko and stepped in to resume his offensive.

This time, Aang held his ground just enough for Zuko to make contact, but each of his blows was easily dismissed with skilled, smooth deflections. If Zuko was any less disciplined, the motions would have left him unbalanced, falling forward past Aang and vulnerable to retaliation. As it was, despite staying grounded, he was uncomfortably aware to how open to attack Aang's deflections were leaving him, seeing the windows of opportunities come and go without Aang pursuing them in the slightest.

He pulled back once more.

"Don't toy with me. Hit me when there's an opening."

"Actually, uh..." Aang again dropped his pose as if he were a novice, "I don't like to hit people. I don't like violence."

"Aang, we are _sparring_."

"Yeah, and I'm totally kicking your ass!"

"You'd have to actually kick it in order to say that."

"Okay, I'll wait until you tire yourself out and give it a little kick."

Zuko gestured violently. "I said, _don't toy with me_."

Aand shrugged, a picture of innocence. "Make me," he said, with a hint of something more sly than his honest face would have suggested.

Zuko went on the attack once more, finding that no matter how fast he approached, Aang was always back in perfect defensive form before Zuko could reach him. His actions might have appeared amateurish, but Zuko was starting to understand the truth - Aang was, in fact, _so skilled_ that he could forego the constant vigilance a martial artist of his age would normally require to hold his own. As he circled Aang, looking for openings, maintaining his own defense better as well, it dawned on him that he was outmatched. He was sparring with a master, and would be better off shutting up and learning all he could from the experience.

Time flew, sweat trickled down his temples. They paused when Aang would throw him or otherwise masterfully disengage. His opponent was also starting to breathe heavily and sweat, his serene smile and bright eyes transforming to something prouder, more amused.

Finally, Aang made a clean, clipped motion, and Zuko felt his world topple to one side and come up to meet him. He sat up on the floor, ready to keep up his assault, but found Aang bowing.

"Thank you for agreeing to spar with me, Zuko," Aang said, straightening up and offering his hand to help Zuko stand. "That's the most fun I've had in ages, and the biggest challenge I've had in a while."

"That was challenging for you? You were five moves ahead no matter what I threw at you and barely broke a sweat!"

Aang laughed and wiped the back of his other hand across his forehead. "Trust me, I broke a sweat for once! It wasn't easy dodging some of your moves!"

Zuko's hand remained frozen in Aang's as he stared.

"Uh, Zuko? You can let go of my hand now."

"Aang..." Zuko whispered, stepping closer, "what's that on your forehead?"

Something pale blue shone above Aang's brow.

"Huh?" Aang stared at him and reached up to feel his head.

Zuko leaned closer, catching a smell of.... something. Makeup. Like mother's face.

Aang's eyes went wide, a small choked, "Oh!" tumbling out as he pushed Zuko away. "Oh!" he said again and spun around, hiding his face with both hands. "Zuko, you have to leave now."

"What?"

"Zuko, please don't tell anyone."

"But what's - "

"Zuko, _please_."

Standing dumbfounded, Zuko played Aang voice over and over in his mind. He sounded so desperate and scared. The martial arts master who had so easily and confidently bested him was now shrinking in on himself, turned away and hiding.

"Yeah, of course. Sure."

Zuko turned and walked to the door, picking up his tunic and shrugging it on over his sweaty shirt.

He turned at the door. Aang was still turned away with his head downcast.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Thanks, Zuko. I'll see you around."

"Yeah, I'll see you."

Zuko walked down the steps of Aang's house and stopped, still confused. The evening was fully dark now, the air crisp with that peculiar smell of autumn nights, fresh onions and woodland campfires. Insects sang all around him. Laughter carried from one of the other houses on the street.

There was something blue tattooed on Aang's forehead.

Something he was covering up with makeup.


	5. Chapter 5

"Uncle Iroh? What do you know about tattoos?"

"Ohhhh, you thinking of getting one?" asked Iroh, and Zuko nearly snacked himself, regretting walking right into his uncle's teasing.

"Fine, forget I asked."

"I think it would suit you to get a laaaarge dragon, Nephew. If you place the head right, he would look like he's breathing fire right over your left eye."

"Hilarious. I'm not getting a tattoo, I was just curious."

Zuko walked out of the room to hang up and brush down a uniform for tomorrow. Giving the one he'd worn to Aang's house a sniff test, he bundled it up with the ones he was taking to the launderer tomorrow and dropped them at the front door. On his way back from the outhouse, his uncle called out to him.

"You know, I can't say I know much about tattoos. Airbenders used to have them. Some of the men in our southern navy get them, though it's frowned upon. Saw one peeking out from beneath a sleeve now and then when we were living in the Lower Ring."

Zuko stopped to think. "Have you ever seen anyone with a blue tattoo on their face?"

"On their _face?_ Who would be so foolhardly?" Uncle Iroh choked on his tea then, and Zuko had to help him with a few hearty pats on the back.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just down the wrong way. And _blue_ , no less. I try not to judge, but that would be a difficult tattoo to hide, don't you think?"

Zuko sat at the table, jaw in hand, thinking.

"Did you see someone with a blue tattoo on their face, Nephew?"

"I thought I did."

Iroh sipped his tea, and Zuko thought about his mother, nostalgic for that long-forgotten smell of her foundation as he would bury his face in her neck. Her perfume and warm arms around him.

"Airbenders supposedly had their tattoos on their foreheads, now that I think about it," Iroh said, settling his tea in his cupped hands and staring into space. "Don't ask me what color they were, though. I'm not that old."

Zuko frowned, trying to remember if he'd known that. "What did their tattoos look like?"

"Arrows, I believe. One on their head, one on each hand, one on each foot. The tattoos were the mark of a master who had learned all the forms. Not sure the shape and style... Wait!" Iroh sat up a little straighter and tapped the center of his forehead. "There's a sect of firebending practitioners with forehead tattoos. A vertical eye over the Light Chakra, which helps the user focus their chi. Did it look like an eye?"

"I don't know what it looked like." Zuko deflated once more. "I just saw blue."

"Maybe this person was a painter and had a mishap at work."

Groaning and rolling his eyes, Zuko stood. "Good night, Uncle." It definitely hadn't been paint.

Iroh chuckled and sipped his tea.

"Good night, Zuko."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I've read... _one_ coffee shop AU in my life. ~~Which was technically also a porn star AU, ayyy.~~ So whether I'm revolutionizing the coffee shop AU industry by flouting every convention or hilariously hitting every cliche branch on my way down to beat a dead horse, I'm literally none the fucking wiser and would prefer to stay that way.
> 
> It's been... a week and a half? since I binged all of A:TLA. I find myself feeling like I don't fucking remember any of it. Who the fuck even _is_ Zuko? What mouth sounds does he make when speaking to Aang or Iroh? What brain sounds does he make with his mind mouth? Specifically, I don't think I can recall why I was dissatisfied with the Ba Sing Se circumstances enough to be compelled to write this. I started the fic while they were still in the thick of searching for Appa, but then Season 2 ended... _like that_. And Season 3 started... like _that_. I had to quickly cram many new feelings in, accidentally overwriting some vitally important Ba Sing Se brain data.
> 
> Rewatch Ba Sing Se eps or keep drawing lots of kisses.......... hmmmmmm..........................

Zuko shifted the weight of the pack so the straps would cease to cut into the same part of this shoulders.

It was the first truly chilly day of the season, and he was enjoying how fresh the air smelled as he walked leisurely back to the shop from the merchant.

He stopped short, staring at the bridge ahead where Aang was perched on the railing.

Aang sat with his hands cupped together in his lap, looking downcast.

Zuko considered taking a longer route to avoid disturbing him. Or should he simply slip by unseen? Or was that awkward? Or was it rude to not say anything? He could double back, there was a closer bridge that way than going around...

Aang heaved a sigh and sat back. Their eyes met.

Aang gave a small smile and a wave, then, seemingly inflating with energy, he put on a much wider smile and threw his legs over the railing to hop down and come over.

"Hey, Zuko! Do you have a day off work?"

"No, my uncle sent me out to purchase tea."

"Oh!"

Aang nodded his head... and nodded... and nodded... He stopped bobbing, briefly meeting Zuko's eyes, but the awkward silence stretched out to the infinite regardless.

"You, uh," Zuko forced his jaw to move out of desperation to fill the air up with any noise that might take pity on htem, "coming to the tea shop?"

"Sure! Lead the way."

Unlike Zuko, Aang's plastered-on smile quickly grew to something more natural and he fell into step beside Zuko, though his pace was such that Zuko had to hurry to keep up.

"Where did you learn to move like that? I didn't get a chance to ask," Zuko asked.

Aang gave him an alarmed sideeye, and Zuko immediately regretted his topic of choice, already trying to take it back, but biting his tongue as Aang began to answer.

"Uh, I kind of just... have always been good at that sort of stuff," Aang said easily, and blindsiding Zuko with the reminder of how difficult it was to ever get straight answers out of him.

"Yeah, but did you train with a master?"

"No, I mostly just practice by dodging and weaving whenever the local kids try to attack."

Zuko let his mouth hang open in disbelief as Aang laughed. Did Aang consider himself a good liar with those sorts of answers? Or was he fully aware he was a bad liar but didn't bother stressing about it?

They walked in silence for a bit, watching the wispy clouds race over the city.

"Do you ever feel..." Zuko began, unsure how to convey the worries on his mind, "that you're somehow in the wrong place, living the wrong life?"

Aang frowned at him, thoughtfully. "I think... I know exactly what you mean. I think it's just loneliness though, so I try not to spend too much time in my house."

"Loneliness? Maybe. If community is all about feeling like you belong, then maybe that's exactly it."

"Did you have a community back in the lower ring?"

"No. Before that, before Ba Sing Se, when my whole family was together. It's been just my uncle and me since we've arrived, though." Zuko nudged his companion. "What about you?"

"Ummmm... I think I was too little to remember my family. But I feel like there's... a piece missing. Something I lost because I wasn't careful enough."

Zuko watched him intently as thoughts warred across Aang's features.

"Nah," Aang finally said, shaking his head, "I don't know. Feelings are weird, you know?" And he shone a bright smile for Zuko as they turned a corner and the tea shop came into view.

Zuko bit the inside of his cheek, but ended up smiling happily anyway as he hitched up the pack again, his face growing warm. Feelings _are_ weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I bring gifts!** [I hear you guys like Zukaang...](https://razielim.tumblr.com/post/619391348854915072/zukos-shaved-pony-was-hot-yall-are-just-a-bunch)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black lives matter. Defund the police.
> 
> Hello, nerds! I'm alive, this fic is alive. I apologize for the wait but I literally could not for the life of me remember where the legitimate fuck I was going with this. You might have noticed how short the last two chapters got as I began to profusely sweat trying to type my way into remembering the basic premise of my own plot. 
> 
> Me @ my own goddamn |Mystery| tag: "Yo, what was the fucking mystery?? I guess it's... _a mystery..._ "
> 
> I remember now. Onwards.

Zuko watched the water pour intently, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on him.

"Enjoy your tea," he croaked and moved away, taking his first deep breath since he approached the table of new customers.

There was no way to be certain, as they all wore plainclothes, but every nerve in his body yelled that the group was comprised of Dai Li agents. He wasn't sure who the smiling woman with them was, but her bearing was just as unnaturally offputting as that of her companions.

Briefly pausing to serve another table on his way, Zuko hurried to the back of the tea shop, slumping against a pillar and feeling his breath even out the tremors of his diaphragm. Uncle Iroh watched him silently as he brewed a new pot with one of his new blends.

"Interesting friends we're seeing today, eh, Zuko?" he asked with his voice low, turning to look out the window. "Just goes to show tea is a universal joy that all people can come to appreciate."

Zuko couldn't help his smile. That was one way of putting it. More importantly, Iroh's comments confirmed he wasn't imagining things in the vibes he got from that table.

"Don't worry about that table, Nephew. I will look after the honored guests sitting there. You will have your hands full soon enough anyway."

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Your friend is here."

Iroh closed picked up the pot of tea he had been brewing and moved out into the room. Zuko peeked around the pillar after him. Aang was here, waving to Uncle Iroh and sitting at an empty table.

Hurrying to maneuver around an employee returning with empty cups and saucers, Zuko jammed him knee into a wooden cabinet and ended up limping back into the room.

"Zuko! You were in my dream last night!"

"I - Good morning - I was?"

"Yeah! We were flying through the sky on a giant... something. Maybe a bull? A buffalo? Anyway, we were flying and someone was shooting giant fireballs at us, and it was really fun! The buffalo was _super_ furry and soft and I woke up really sad I could keep snuggling my face in his coat."

"That's a strange dream, Aang," Zuko teased, crossing his arms.

"I guess?" Aang scratched the back of his head and frowned. "I thought all dreams were like that. I've definitely dreamed of flying on fluffy animals many times before." He grinned slyly then and leaned in conspiratorially. "I guess all your dreams must be about working at the tea shop, huh?"

"What? No! I have interesting dreams too!" Mostly about father. And dragons. And that hellish Agni Kai that had changed his life forever.

"Uh huh. Sure. I'll have a pot of lychee, by the way."

"I don't dream about tea shops, Aang." reiterated Zuko, pointing an irritated finger in Aang's giddy expression, and stalked off. Once brewing Aang's lychee, he noticed the Dai Li table again and his heart lurched nervously once more. But the attention of the table wasn't on him, or even on Uncle Iroh. All of them were staring dead at Aang, and even the woman had stopped her unnerving smiling and was watching the young man intently. As he watched, one by one, the Dai Li peeled their gazes away, sipping their tea, and their companion blossomed once more into brightly smiling. Zuko wasn't sure how she was sipping her tea without spilling any since she put her cup to her teeth with minimal change to her lips.

He brought the tea to Aang, feeling alert once more. Were the Dai Li here because they were interested in Aang? Or were they investigating Zuko and Iroh after all, and had only taken interest in Aang because of how friendly they had been in their exchange?

"Hey, Zuko. Why the long face? You can tell me about the cool dreams you've had, you know. I was just joking about the tea shop thing."

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Aang looked confused and sad, but Zuko left to help others, watching the table of government agents out of the corner of his eye, but they were no longer looking at anyone around themselves, and did not even glance up at Uncle Iroh whenever he came to serve them. By the time Zuko looked at Aang's table again, he was gone, his pot of lychee unfinished.

He breathed easily again when he saw over the counter that the undercover Dai Li were getting up to finally leave.They filed out of the front door silently without a look back.

Coming around the corner with a pot of hot tea, he almost ran into a woman, and barely avoided scalding her.

It was the smiling woman.

"Hello, you are Zuko, yes?" she asked, beaming at him.

"Y-yes," he replied, dabbing at his apron with a towel.

"Wonderful! My name is Joo Dee, and I work on our magnificent city's Quality of Life committee! I would like to ask you some questions about your life here, in the Upper Ring."

"Can't you ask someone else? I'm working right now."

"I have asked the proprietor, and he has agreed to let you go for a short while. Ten minutes of your time is all I ask. I have come all this way to survey you." She leaned in and her smile intensified. "As a relatively recent addition to our community but hopefully a permanent one, we are very interested in the experiences of a young man such as yourself."

Zuko's eyes darted to the side, where Uncle Iroh caught his gaze and nodded slowly and meaningfully.

"Alright."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an incessant ringing outside and it's driving me wild. Gonna go fight the wind.
> 
> I fucking love Joo Dee, tbh. Unnerving.

"So, Zuko. How are you enjoying your stay in the Upper Ring, where we are all more comfortable?"

"It's wonderful. The... air is very clean up here."

"It is, isn't it? So lovely, without all the fumes of industry to offend the nostrils." Joo Dee smiled so widely that her own nostrils stretched abnormally as though to prove her point.

Zuko scooched another half-inch back in his chair to put some distance between himself and her grin. They sat in the the most distanced corner of the tea shop, with Uncle Iroh having been instructed to not seat anyone too close to them.

"It must be lonely here, though. Not as many young men and women of your station here in the Upper Ring. Do you miss your friends from the Lower Ring?"

"I didn't have any friends there."

"Ah, so if you were to be sent back to the Lower Ring without your uncle, it sounds like you would be all alone. That would be such a shame."

Zuko stared silently, waiting for the threat to continue, but Joo Dee only beamed at him.

He swallowed. "Yes, I'm very grateful to be here with my uncle."

"I see that you have made friends with an important guest here in the Upper Ring. I'm curious, can you tell me - Why did you go to Master Aang's residence four nights ago?"

"Uh." Zuko's heart jumped and resumed pounding somewhere in his throat. "We were sparring. He had invited me... to spar."

"Oh, I see! How wonderful. Yes, Master Aang is quite good, isn't he?"

Zuko stared.

Silence.

"Yes. He is."

"Still, it's not exactly _proper_ , is it? Master Aang usually spars with the city's elite. It isn't quite right, for a refugee tea shop employee to make himself comfortable visiting the residence of such an honorable master of our martial arts, is it?"

"No... I suppose it's not."

"I'm so glad to hear that you see the problem, Zuko. We can expect to see you sticking to more _appropriate_ parts of Ba Sing Se, then?"

There was a faint ringing noise echoing in Zuko's head. "Yes."

"And you will, of course, make more _appropriate_ friends and connections?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful! I'm so happy to hear that you will be minimizing your interaction with Master Aang. You can, I assume, arrange someone else to serve him tea when he comes to The Jasmine Dragon? Your uncle runs a thriving business with plenty of skilled employees!"

"I'll do that." The ringing was getting louder. Zuko stared at his interlaced knuckles on the table in front of him.

"I'm so happy to hear that you are such a conscientious member of our Upper Ring community, Zuko. I see you have a lot on your mind. I will leave you to contemplate how else you might contribute to the _orderliness_ of our society with the choices you make."

Joo Dee daintily pushed back her chair with barely a scrape. He saw her stand in his peripheral vision but couldn't seem to look up from his hands.

Ah. The ringing was just dissociation. He tried to review the conversation he'd just had to make sense of it, but the memory was like a raw burn wound and he shied from touching it.

"Zuko. You haven't moved in twenty minutes."

"Sorry, Uncle."

A warm, large hand settled on his shoulder, stirring life within Zuko. He sat up a little straighter and looked up from the middle distance he had lost himself in. Uncle Iroh stood looking back at him, his expression neither sad nor concerned, but with a depth of feeling in his eyes like he had a good idea of what had been said.

"Why don't you go home, Nephew? You look like you need a restorative nap more than you need tea."

Zuko stared at him silently, tracing his kind face. He couldn't hear himself think.

"Yeah. Thanks, Uncle."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no war in Ba Sing Se, and you guys should be nicer to Joo Dee.
> 
> Y'all made me look up a lot of memes last time to understand your comments. I can hear old age breathing heavily from beneath my bed whenever I go to sleep at night.
> 
> Once upon a time, I didn't post chapters unless they were at least ~2-3k. I'd sit and bully myself into writing meaty chapters with many scene changes. I'd procrastinate and be frustrated to tears that I couldn't make myself just do things consistently. Beloved WIPs tapered off into me absolutely hating them and the guilt they represented. Now I've learned to love myself. 10/10 would recommend.

"One friend! One! They could have just said, 'Don't go to his house,' but to not even serve him tea? What am I gonna say when he asks why I'm avoiding him? 'Oh, yeah, I just hate you now. It's your stupid _forehead tattoo_.'"

"Zuko."

Zuko waved Iroh off, but lowered his voice once more.

"I'm just saying. What the hell do they care? Isn't it _his_ problem whether he chooses to keep up appearances or not? Clearly, he's chosen to not. Why are they making this my fault? I just wanted... I just want..."

Zuko's angry shoulders crumpled. He sank to sit at the table in defeat, turning the idea over. _A friend. I just want a friend._

Uncle Iroh nudged Zuko's untouched dinner closer to him. "I did not suspect, when we arrived in Ba Sing Se, that I was bringing you to a place where you would feel so alone, Zuko. For that, I am sorry."

"It's not your fault, Uncle," Zuko mumbled, finally reaching for his chopsticks and sighing.

"It's not, and yet I feel responsible. A young person needs friends and community. Our nation and our titles are not the only thing we have lost. But I have lived a full life, and have had many friends, and am at that age when I am no longer afraid of solitude. Every stranger is a potential friend. But you were robbed of the adolescence that I took for granted. I had thought that agreeing to serve tea in the Upper Ring would afford you more opportunities in life, but I seem to have misjudged."

"Do you... think they'd really send me back to the Lower Ring without you?"

"Oh, I don't think they'd keep me around for very long if they did that. There's no telling what trouble a senile old man could cause without his nephew to keep an eye on him. Surely, they'd be eager to relocate him somewhere he wouldn't be such an eyesore."

Zuko smiled.

He looked up to see Iroh's eyes twinkling and the two of them broke into laughter.

Zuko dragged his feet two the shop the entire way on the next morning, unable to stop thinking of all the thing he could or should say to Aang. He was so vacant at work that Iroh asked him to take it easy and organize their stock, which Zuko did with relief.

He heard Aang's voice clear across the whole shop. Not that Aang was speaking particularly loudly, but Zuko supposed his whole body had been wound tight both dreading and hoping to hear him.

Poking his head around the cabinet, he watched another employee take Aang's order.

Sighing, Zuko hid and busied himself with washing cups once more.

He wouldn't have to explain anything today if Aang thought he simply wasn't present.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. There is no old age lurking beneath my bed because I don't have a bed. I sleep on the floor. Take _that,_ scary monsters!
> 
> Your attempts to piece together the situation in the comments are very exciting to read, though nerve-wracking. What if one of you comments with a better plot than I have planned?? How _embarrassing._ I'll have no choice but to copy your homework.
> 
> The mystery of this story is actually very simple!  
> It's that Zuko **[REDACTED][REDACTED]** is actually **[REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED]** a goose **[REDACTED][REDACTED]** fucking **[REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED][REDACTED]**.

After two weeks of complete and utter misery, Zuko had a plan. 

He was going to make friends.

He was going to attend... the next festival? And he was going to... talk to people he saw there. Or else... he'd ask around among Uncle Iroh's business owner friends... to see if they also had any... nieces and nephews of Zuko's age. Groaning, Zuko rubbed his face, which turned to thoughtfully massaging his scar as he walked.

It wasn't a hashed out plan, fine, but it was the foundation of a... directional... _intention_. 

The idea had struck him during his morning flow. It had been a particularly beautiful morning again, and somehow, despite everything, his firebending had filled him with a novel vitality. The heat of it had stirred hope where none had flickered for a long time. Beads of sweat gathering on his chest, he had felt capable, the master of his own destiny.

Of course, during the course of the day — breathing the dusty Earth Kingdom air, having to ignore Aang's sad puppy eyes _again_ , serving clueless and boring Ba Sing Se dignitaries — all the minutia of miserable reality had gotten to him and drained him of that initial morning hope, but the _idea_ of his power to change his life had remained. 

So he was walking home, deep in thought, and haltingly trying to piece together a friend-making scheme. How hard could it be, right? He just had to take it seriously, like sword training. 

He could, instead of walking to and from the shop lost deep in thought, make an effort to make eye contact and greet people! He could nod, or smile, to friendly faces, and slowly work up his courage to do the same upon encountering less-than-friendly faces. He could channel his inner Iroh and offer help to people who looked deeply troubled? He could... comment on the weather! This would serve to practice feeling comfortable and open to new connections around strangers. 

He could start right now!

 _At any moment,_ he told himself, _I have the power to change my social fortune._

A steady stream of smiling strangers passed him on the street, but the would-be social butterfly didn't notice a single one, blissfully preoccupied with his plotting. 

Turning absently onto a quieter street, he started counting all his viable ideas for friend-making on his fingers, suddenly aware that he might have to start writing things down to keep it all straight. 

A warm hand clasped his right biceps and pulled him off his feet. 

The world fell into shadow, and Zuko fell crashing into decorative bushes, sputtering against large dark leaves and flailing against the branches attacking from all sides.

Soft snickering stopped his wild defensive motions. 

"Aang?" he whispered, whipping around, and jerking his head back as a snapped branch painfully grazed his cheek. "What do you think you're doing? I could have hurt you!"

"Honestly, I think you we too busy trying to defeat the magnolia-currants," Aang said, sitting down on a low knobby branch in the surprisingly spacious world contained within the bush.

Zuko extricated himself from some remaining snags and broken twigs and found a place to kneel comfortably in the soil. He looked up at Aang warily. "I have to get home, Aang."

"Yeah, of course." Aang played with the edge of his shoe, the mirth melting from his eyes. "I just wanted to ask you... Did I do something to make you avoid me?"

Zuko stared down at the dirt.

"Was it..." Aang continued when Zuko didn't answer, "was it because of that time at my place? That thing you saw?"

Zuko shook his head furiously but couldn't speak.

"Why, then?"

Aang's whisper had sounded so small, so childlike, that Zuko couldn't help glance up. Just in time to see him tightly wrap his arms around his knees.

"I... I just can't. Is it true you teach martial arts to the elite of the city?"

Aang looked up from his knees.

"Yeah. So?"

"Well... isn't it not right for you to be seen with me?"

Frowning deeply, Aang stared up at the canopy of leaves and sat thinking for a moment before firmly saying, "No, that's the last thing I would care about. Why would you care?"

"I don't! But... others might."

"So you're not talking to me because someone said something?"

Zuko lowered his gaze back down to the dirt, deeply ashamed. "It's not that simple."

"Did someone threaten you?"

He kept silent.

The branch Aang sat on creaked heavily as Aang leaned up off of it, pressing into Zuko's space so close that Zuko's adrenaline spiked. He started to back away and almost missed the soft question Aang breathed faintly into the air between their faces.

"Was it the Dai Li?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! I wrote. The long break is because since the last chapter came out, I became an even more powerful painter than ever before, and spent months rolling around in the luxurious feeling of my own omnipotence, laughing maniacally. No guarantees it won't happen again.
> 
> It has occurred to me that seeing as how this is technically listed as a _coffee (tea) shop AU_ and takes place in the fall, I would be totally justified to have them all walking around holding PSLs in the next chapter.

Zuko woke slowly, pulling his consciousness from some unfathomable depths. In his dreams, he had been back in the bushes with Aang, but there were hands reaching through the leaves for them, grabbing at their clothes. Aang would always take his hand and pull him to the next bush so they could keep talking, but soon again, the hands would reach in. Sometimes, he would land in the next bush and Joo Dee would be there, smiling and asking him where Master Aang had run away to as Zuko tried to fight his way out through the branches to catch up with Aang. When he would find Aang, his friend would again attempt to explain something important, there was something blue shining on his sweaty forehead, but their conversation could never get far before being interrupted. Finally, Zuko had lost track of Aang entirely, and he searched through bushes fruitlessly, all of them empty — Aang gone, Joo Dee gone, the hands no longer stalking him. He sat in the bush lonely and frustrated by secrets.

Zuko sat up in alarm, noticing the sky growing steadily more grey. He didn't have time to reminisce about dreams.

Getting dressed quickly and quietly, he slipped past Uncle Iroh and out of their apartments, stepping past the bathhouse into the small gated service alley. Jumping the gate easily, he continued creeping down the street, sticking close to the buildings where the last shadows of night were still pooling. As the sky turned more pink and gold, he dipped into a dark park, shivering in its dew-laden air as he snuck from tree to tree towards his destination.

"Sneaking in the city isn't very effective, you know," came a voice from above.

Jumping and twisting so fast he almost lost his footing on the damp grass, Zuko peered above him where he could just make out Aang's feet swinging from a branch and the pale sky fighting to be visible through the canopy.

"If you don't want people to follow you or predict where you're gonna be, you have to choose to be in the wrong place at the wrong time," Aang continued, climbing down deftly. "But once you're there, you can't act like you don't belong there or everyone who had no reason to suspect otherwise will start thinking you're doing something wrong."

"So... just brazenly walk in the middle of the road?"

Aang grinned. "You really don't break the rules a lot, huh? Just act normal. You probably passed lots of people who were just going about their business, getting their supplies for the day, wishing they were still in bed. I doubt you remember what any of them looked like."

Zuko looked around now, as if prove Aang wrong, but they were all alone in the middle of a luscious lawn, the nearest footpath through the park hidden behind some bushes and empty this early in the morning. "How come you have so much experience breaking rules?" he asked.

Aang shrugged and set off deeper into the park, motioning Zuko to follow. "I guess it's just my personality. Plus there's always something fishy going on with the Dai Li. Like I told you last week, you're not the only friend who stopped talking to me for no reason. You're just the only one who agreed to keep being friends in secret. But even before that..." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know. If I don't break rules, everything just kind of feels wrong. I don't like it."

They came out to a stream where a short waterfall bubbled across from a few low benches arranged in a semicircle. Aang sat and sprawled out, staring contentedly at the water, but Zuko kept watching his companion as he lowered himself gingerly to sit, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"But what's the point?" Zuko asked. "What's the point of sneaking out and meeting like this?"

Aang raised an eyebrow. "The point? It's to talk! Have fun! I don't know what those Dai Li are up to, exactly, but... I get the feeling like... in Ba Sing Se, it's hard to be free, hard to be the master of your own destiny. And when I look at you —" Aang's serious gaze landed heavily on Zuko. "— I see someone like me. Someone who has a free soul. Your uncle, too. So I think it's important to stick close and not let that fire go out."

Zuko shifted uncomfortably on the damp bench, wanting to hide from Aang's words, especially the bit about the fire. "I don't know, Aang. I don't think I'm quite as free-spirited as you. I'm... just a guy that works in a tea shop."

"A guy that works in a tea shop but for some reason is the best sparring partner I've ever come across," Aang said with feigned innocence, and Zuko cast an alarmed glance his way. "You've got secrets, Zuko. I like that. I have secrets too. And I think that's where our trouble lies. Our secrets keep us wanting something more, something we don't understand yet." Aang smiled warmly. "I want to keep being friends with you so we can help each other discover what that something might be."

Zuko frowned, still wondering if he should have kept his martial prowess a better secret, even from Aang. He should have been back in his room practicing firebending, not risking being booted back to the Lower Ring and perhaps out of the city entirely by meeting with Aang.

He stood, anxiety and questions eating away at his guts. "I don't know if you're right. I have everything a refugee could possibly want."

Zuko turned to go, pausing when Aang spoke.

"I understand. Happy people don't take huge risks for more happiness. Then again... if you're ever in the mood for a huge risk, I'll just keep coming here in the mornings for a while. At least until the autumn chill really sets in."

Zuko turned back to look at him, half-hoping Aang would say something that would convince him to stay a little longer, to promise him that nothing would go wrong, but Aang was making himself comfortable in a meditative posture facing the water and said nothing further.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest with you, I've only seen the show once; I have _not_ rewatched it since then; I likely _don't_ remember the details. If I start calling Momo "Mumu" or some other nonsense, this is why. We're just rolling with it, friends. _Come one, come all, to see Mumu! The flying lemur!_
> 
> Thank you to everyone who leaves comments! I often think, "Well, I guess I'm just abandoning that fic because I don't really mind not knowing exactly how it ends. I know the general gist," but **every** update I've made since June has been because I couldn't stop thinking about this or that recent sweet comment I'd received. After stewing in those thoughts for a few nights, I would eventually feel, once more, empowered enough to try to finish the story for all the nice people who have been reading and waiting. These comments sometimes don't have the right timing and show up when I'm very busy with something else, so they make me smile but I keep working on other things. But sometimes, when I'm least certain about what I should be doing in life, they take root and fic things happen. Thank you!

Zuko was in the Middle Ring that day.

He felt awkward, out of place, despite his tea shop robe fitting in rather well. It seemed somehow that something would give him away as being from the Upper Ring and upset people that someone who thought too highly of himself was among them.

Strange, that. Once, he'd been a prince and would have thought nothing of walking around even the Upper Ring as if he owned the place. Now, having had to seek refuge in a foreign city under a false name, having lived in the Lower Ring for years, and then having moved to the Upper Ring where he was little more than a servant, walking with the same straight back and his head held high felt so presumptuous.

He was picking up fruit from stalls that Iroh had ordered from back during their Lower Ring days and continued a prosperous relationship with to this day. As he idly chatted with the grocer who was weighing out dried peach slivers, there was a commotion across the street.

"I don't want to hear that nonsense scaring my patrons!" yelled a corpulent tea shop owner, red in the face with panicked eyes, escorting a young woman out of his establishment.

The young woman stepped off the threshold, spat, and set off towards the lower part of the ring, pulling behind her a younger boy who must have been her brother. As she passed Zuko, he heard her cursing.

"No war in Ba Sing Se, no war in Ba Sing Se. I hope you have no foot shoved up your ass!"

The fruit merchant broke out coughing, as though to overpower her words. As she walked further down the street, Zuko saw and heard others drop crates, break out coughing, or speak louder, drowning out her words and giving themselves a plausible excuse not to have heard what she had to say.

Zuko paid for his purchase, sent off the man he'd hired to pull the cart, saying he could manage the rest himself.

Then he set off down a side street, then turned and began moving at a quick pace down in the direction the girl had gone.

Out of the immediate vicinity of anyone who had seen the scene, he merged back to the main road and kept his eyes peeled.

After a half hour of poking his head down alleys and doubling back a couple times suspecting he might have missed something, Zuko had no choice but to give up. Luckily, he was indeed near the shop where he needed to make his last purchase, so he bought a large tin of star anise and set off lugging it back to the Upper Ring.

Zuko spotted _the boy._

He was crying.

Zuko stopped, looked around, and approached the child. He sat on the stoop of a rather nice townhome, shaded in front by tall trees, beautiful curtains in the window.

"Are you alright?" asked Zuko.

The boy looked up at him, nodded miserably, and looked back down at the ground, his hands shaking on his knees and lips quivering.

"Is, uh, is your sister in trouble?" Zuko tried again.

"You know Yin-Li?" asked the boy, eyes wide.

"In passing, yeah."

The boy sniffed and big fat tears spilled over from his eyes. "The police said this was her last warning. If she talks about you-know-what again in public, they'll take her away. And our family..." the boy made an ugly face as he fought back more tears.

"The police? Or..."

The boy met his gaze and twitched his head slightly. Zuko nodded. "That's awful."

The kid nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "Mother went ballistic. She's still crying. Father says Yin-Li isn't allowed to leave the house for three months until she puts it out of her head."

Zuko nodded, speaking more quietly and sitting down on a decorative urn near the steps to the house. "Do you remember what it was like to be a refugee, or were you born after that?"

Shaking his head, the boy sniffed and said, "No, I remember just a bit of the Lower Ring." He looked to Zuko. "I don't want to go back."

Zuko nodded. "Yeah, me either."

They sat in silence for some time.

Finally, Zuko picked up his tin of anise and stood again. "I need to be getting back. I'm glad they didn't take your sister away today."

The boy nodded. "Yeah. Me too."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glug glug sipping that thickening plot juice.

Zuko sat on the bench facing the water tapping his feet to a tune he was trying to remember. Well past merely chilly, it was getting to be really frigid in the mornings and he kept kicking himself for putting off coming here this long. He stuck his numb and shaking fingers in his armpits and swore to only wait until he heard the local bells strike the hour, which ought to have happened by now.

The bells struck and he sprang up, cursing, his frozen feet carrying him out of the park. Why hadn't he tried to meet with Aang sooner? Was he a coward or just stupid thinking he could go on living like this, in a city that punished people for merely speaking the truth?

He was about to turn home to get ready for work, but for some strange drunken aggression that clawed at his chest, kept walking down the same main street, turning through a park, a strange neighborhood he'd only glanced down the length of before, and finally through a series of small streets, over a bush, and through a private and well-decorated lawn, into Aang's house through the back door.

Aang tripped as the door slammed open, spitting out a mouthful of rice and dropping both himself and his breakfast bowl.

Zuko glared down at him.

Aang stared up, eyes wide.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm here now!" declared Zuko.

"Those are certainly both true," intoned Aang, not bothering to pick himself up off the floor.

Then Zuko saw the tattoos and stepped back, running into the screen door he hadn't realized he'd already closed behind himself.

Aang raised an eyebrow. "What's up with you?" he asked, finally pushing up and trying to scoot his rice back into its bowl with his hand.

"They're arrows," breathed Zuko.

Aang froze, seeing his own hand and its blue markings.

He jumped to his feet, looking at Zuko in alarm and covering his forehead with his hands, rice dislodging itself from his palm and falling down his face. Then he switched to hiding his hands behind his back. Then he spun around, but the lines of the arrows were still on display on the back of his head and his shirtless back, and he yelled in frustration and ran from the room.

Zuko stood rooted to the spot. Minutes passed. He heard running and fussing somewhere else in the house, but he did nothing and thought nothing as he stared at the bowl of spilled rice.

_"Airbenders supposedly had their tattoos on their foreheads. Don't ask me what color they were, though. I'm not that old."_

There came a crash and the sound of Aang jumping on one foot.

_"Arrows, I believe. One on their head, one on each hand, one on each foot. The tattoos were the mark of a master who had learned all the forms."_

The door through which Aang had disappeared slammed open.

He stood there, flushed, watching Zuko warily. Zuko could see now, with Aang's face so red, where the makeup he used to cover the tattoo ended and his skin began.

"Er, so, I hope that you don't think any less of me, I'm still the same-"

"You're an airbender."

"-guy you've always known and I, wait, what?"

Aang's alarm faded and he blinked at Zuko without any recognition.

"You're an airbender," Zuko repeated.

Aang stared at him with his mouth lightly ajar. Then he burst out laughing, clutching at his stomach in a childish matter. "Right! I'm an airbender. Good one, Zuko!" He wiped a tear, winked, and continued. "Yeah, of course I am. Are you not? I'm very disappointed in you, you know."

Zuko stared.

Aang frowned. "Um... why would you think I'm an airbender?" he asked with skepticism.

"Those," replied Zuko, now unsure himself, "are the tattoo's of an airbender... master?"

Aang blinked at him. "They're really, really not. But if you don't know what they actually are, I, uh... I'd rather not correct you. It's... very embarrassing," Aang said, his voice dropping to being barely audible as he spoke, and he trailed off rubbing his cheek awkwardly.

Zuko blinked. "Oh. I guess... maybe I had wrong information."

Nodding, Aang frowned and shifted his hand to scratch his chin. "Aren't they all dead?"

"Supposedly," Zuko said, shrugging and finally pushing off from where he'd been trying to disappear into the door, "the Avatar still lives. No one knows if he fathered any new airbenders."

"Oh."

"Sorry for barging in unannounced."

"It's okay," Aang said, suddenly beaming and coming closer, "I'm glad you came to see me at all and having you see my tattoos is a small price to pay!" He looked at the door behind Zuko. "Did you sneak in through the back garden?"

"Yeah, I was trying to take an unpredictable route. I don't know if I pulled it off very well, though."

Aang smiled. "You tried. We won't know until we know. Come on. I can put on a pot of tea."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death by a thousand cuts, or! ...a thousand tiny chapters.
> 
> Read 'em and weep, boys.

Aang was very surprised to hear about the war. As a lifelong citizen of the Upper Ring, he'd had no idea that there even _was_ a war in the Earth Kingdom, let alone a war that occasionally crashed against the outer wall.

Leaving his uncle's name out of it, Zuko asked if Aang knew about the time the outer wall had been breached some years ago, and Aang was surprised to hear of it as well.

"It's strange, I knew something was off, but I had no idea that the Dai Li might be covering up something like that. I'd been going just off of my own gut feelings," Aang mused, rubbing his cheek where he'd missed a spot shaving in his hurry. "And then I met you, and no wonder you were so quick to believe me. You knew all along that there was a war, you'd seen it, fled from it, and even knew that the Dai Li monitored those who mentioned it in public."

"It took me months to come here and talk to you," said Zuko.

Aang waved his hand. "That's a different story. You _believed_ me as soon as I said something. All along, you'd had more information than I did."

Aang looked at the clock and set down his tea. "Isn't it time for you to go to work? I'm glad you came to talk finally, but it does us no good for the Dai Li to start asking themselves why you're not where you're expected to be."

Sneaking out back the way he'd come, Zuko returned home to change quickly and went to the tea shop.

Walking in, he saw a Dai Li agent sitting near the kitchen, and approached his uncle who was returning with an empty teapot.

"I made the delivery as you asked, Uncle," he said clearly.

"Oh, very good," replied Uncle Iroh without missing a beat. "The minister is a very valued customer and I am happy that we are able to serve him our tea even when he is working so hard."

Soon enough, the Dai Li agent left. Zuko felt a moment of panic as he wondered if they would check his story, but he calmed himself down remembering that there were countless ministers of all sorts in the Upper Ring alone, and checking such things was likely not worth the Dai Li's precious time.

As he went home that evening, he kept hoping that Aang would pull him into a large dense bush again, that he'd be able to continue their conversation, but all the bushes had started to lose their foliage and sported large bald spots that laid their hearts bare and made it impossible to hide.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why is he posting so many chapters suddenly?"  
> Listen, I just write the damn thing, I don't have any choice over when or in what volume the writing happens. Tis the season, or something. We'll blame it on Sagittarius.

Zuko poked his head into the garden. He'd climbed through an decorative fence with big, gourd-shaped holes between the ornately bent metal beams and was not sitting in one of the few varieties of foliage that kept its greenery through the Ba Sing Se winters.

Wary of a trap, he scanned the windows of the house, and seeing no movement or anything to scare him, finally stepped out onto the lawn, careful not to trample any of the exotic dormant plants.

He slid the back door open.

Aang sat at a nice table, looking up at him with pleasure. "You made it. Did anyone see you?"

"I don't think so. I followed your instructions as best as I could. What is this place?"

"This is the summer home of one of my students, a cousin of the Earth King. I was wandering around, racking my brains thinking of a place we could safely meet and chanced upon here! It's got a nice place to sneak in because that one hole is the only one without a crosspiece in it so no one would normally suspect the fence is penetrable. The bushes kept their leaves for the winter. The house is empty so we don't have to freeze in the park, and the street is close to your normal route to work, but secluded enough to get through the fence without being spotted. It's perfect."

Zuko smiled. "It is. Are we meeting here from now on, then?"

"That's the plan," said Aang and tipped over the bag he carried to pour a bunch of clementines out onto the table. "Now, you were telling me about the war. Is the Earth Kingdom losing it?"

Zuko, already happily peeling a clementine, sighed. "It's hard to know. I haven't been back to the Lower Ring in a couple years, and only recent refugees would have news. But you can't exactly go around asking people if they're recent transplants or not, and though it's permissible to mention the war in the Lower Ring, it's certainly not permissible to ask for details of it." He popped a couple slides into his mouth. "When we arrived, years ago, yes. The Earth Kingdom was losing. The war, I suppose it should be mentioned, has been ongoing for over a hundred years now. That siege I mentioned, the one that broke through the outer wall, is likely to happen again, even if the Fire Nation's army was then deflected."

"You really think it's so unlikely that the Earth Nation can turn the tide?"

"The Fire Nation has simply occupied and enslaved too many lands and sources of raw materials and industry. If Ba Sing Se didn't have the resources to drive them back all the way to the coast then, I can't imagine how they'd have accumulated what they would need in the time since," Zuko spoke, recalling what he could of supply chains and battles, knowledge which no normal refugee had and which he was not yet willing to share. "The most telling sign, however, about the status of the war, is I think right in front of us, right here in the Upper Ring and everywhere around us."

Aang cocked his head curiously and Zuko leaned in to speak with emphasis.

"It's also what brought us together, Aang. If the war had ended, the Dai Li would not be so busy actively suppressing information and communication. If the war had been won, we'd hear of it every day and be expected to discuss it."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. I just had so much food. I'm in pain.

It was hard to say exactly what the point of their meetings were. It felt about as futile and juvenile as a club of mutual interests, but it gave Zuko a sense that the fire, as Aang had put it, was being kept from going out. And he did, in fact, feel a fire since he had talked to Yin-Li's brother and remembered how absurd it was that no one was allowed to simply speak about the war once through the games of the Middle Ring.

Aang's questions about the war stoked this sense of profound wrongness. He thought about his father more as the weeks went by, as well. In the Fire Nation, there was a different sort of network of lies at play, but it all amounted to the same outcome - the powerful could toy with those who trusted them at their leisure, and then lie about events to maintain that trust. Just like those soldiers his father had sent to die. If Zuko hadn't been present at that fateful meeting, he too would have thought they'd been killed in an ambush no one could have foreseen.

When he had first been exiled, years ago, with no purpose, no direction, he had thought perhaps he could achieve something, make something of himself, deaden his naivete and come back with his honor intact.

But many years of aimlessness had instead deadened his connection to the idea of honor instead. You only did what you could, what you had to do, what was allowed for you to do. There was nothing honorable in the role. It was only within the power of people like his father and the Earth king to do something honorable and they chose not to. Day after day, year after year, they chose to maintain the lies.

But somehow, with Aang, around Aang, Zuko saw glimpses of a different kind of honor. An honor in keeping your eyes open instead of downcast to the ground, keeping your ears alert rather than coughing to drown out the treasonous words of young girls.

He just wished Aang had a plan for what to DO with all this alertness he was brimming with.

"Uncle, do you wish the war would end?" he asked one night, brushing his long hair before bed as Iroh sipped his tea.

Iroh smiled sadly down into his cup. "As much as anyone could possibly wish for such a blessing."

"Do you think there is anything that we could do, as either ordinary citizens, or as exiled royalty, to see that happen?"

Iroh looked up at him in surprise.

Zuko waited, unsure what the problem was.

His uncle's features softened. "It has been a long time, dear Nephew, since you have asked me such questions." He grew thoughtful. "An interesting question, that. I suppose there is some value in our former titles - technically, you're the only exiled royal. I still might make a good hostage if I were to be turned over to the Earth King. What might possibly be bargained for me that could end the war, however, I don't know."

Zuko set aside his comb, very interested.

"Honestly, Zuko, I don't know if anything can be done without the aid of the Avatar. The Earth Kingdom's power and ability to withstand assaults and sieges is dwindling with every year that passes. The Northern Water Tribe does not venture from its cold waters and the Southern Water Tribe is all but wiped from the map. Sometimes, I fear that the only way balance will return to our world is if the Fire Nation has nothing left to conquer, and someday, when my brother is long gone, it will fracture back into smaller nations who are too content with their newfound independence and identity to pursue conquest for some centuries."

Mouth hanging ajar, Zuko stared at his uncle. He found it hard to believe that the man could look so discouraged. If Uncle Iroh couldn't see a path to peace within their lifetime, who could?

Then his uncle smiled and looked upon Zuko with warm eyes. "I don't mean to say that there is no hope, nephew. Only that this old man isn't half as clever as he wishes he was. There is always hope, and it is within our power to seize any glimmer of opportunity we see. The trick is to not fall into despair and disrepair while we're watching and waiting."

They were silent for some time, but inside Zuko, the feeling he'd been set alight with swelled. He thought about Aang, about Yin-Li, about his Uncle's past achievements.

"Uncle. It's been so long since I've had instruction." Zuko looked up, knowing full well that it was only his own resistance to help and guidance which had caused the lapse in his training. "I... I'd like to improve my firebending."

Chuckling, Uncle Iroh stood and carried his empty cup and teapot to the basin. "Then I suppose I'll have to instruct you. Unless, of course, you had another firebender in mind?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I skim past the word Gaang, I think someone's talking about a crossover with Naruto. You know, Gaara chilling with the Gaang, no biggie.
> 
> I sometimes make this mistake _several times_ within one page's worth of text because Gaang is a foreign word, but Gaara is part of my native nerd tongue.

Zuko felt... good. Surprisingly. Oddly.

He noticed it because several days in a row, he had woken and felt, strangely, oddly, bewilderingly, all there. Present. Like he wasn't merely experiencing a dream. In the spring, he remembered having the thought - it would be nice to one day wake up to live a good dream, rather than the numb bad one he'd been living since arriving in Ba Sing Se.

But as he sat up in bed and looked at his hands, jump starting his fire bending, thinking about his training with Iroh which he should be getting dressed for, anticipating spending his evening with Aang in the abandoned mansion, he felt alive and grounded in reality as strongly as he had many years ago, wandering in exile with Iroh, his face still a mess of melted skin and pure agony.

Strange, that. His most vivacious memories were his most painful ones.

Yet, now, he was finally building new vibrant experiences, and they were anything but painful.

Zuko smiled, first a little, then very giddily, burying his face in his hands, embarrassed by the uncharacteristic display of emotion.

There came a knock at his door.

"Sleep is important for good bending, Nephew, but it does not replace practice."

Since beginning to train with his uncle, Zuko found new peace in his work at the tea shop. Before, his practice was the only way that he felt he could get through the day, his only island of meaning before a day full of dealing with vapid customers. Now, however, Uncle Iroh's demanding challenges kept so thoroughly exhausting him that coming to the tea shop and idly exchanging words with the clientele was an appreciated time to recover. He in no way daydreamed of returning back to the apartment to practice more.

Zuko's firebending journey had always felt off-kilter. First, he had been reprimanded for his hesitancy and not being able to produce as much firepower as his sister Azula. Then, after his exile, Iroh had gently chastised him for using too much power and no control. Restrained to practicing within a small wooden apartment had given him the much-needed constraint to develop some control over his bending, but despite the satisfaction of developing his technique of running heat invisibly along his body, it had felt like a static art, with no application.

With an extra set of eyes watching him and helping him safely direct his bending without burning down the whole building, he felt that he was finally running along the right track. For the first time in years, Zuko was producing balls and columns of fire, and he felt so incredibly alive.

Zuko tripped over someone.

Or more like he ran straight into them and they didn't budge an inch so he bounced off of someone.

"Watch where you're going!" said the small figure of the stockiest girl Zuko had ever seen.

His body felt as though it would bruise where it had hit her.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I was very distracted."

"Right, bet you were hoping the crowd would just _part_ before you while you're walking along lost in the clouds," she said, with wide sweeping gestures to emphasize her words, causing the crowd to part around her to avoid getting smacked. "I think not, pal."

She wasn't quite looking at him, and Zuko blinked in surprise. "Oh. You're blind."

"That's right, asshole. You almost knocked a poor, defenseless blind girl off her feet. What are you going to do to make up for this? I ought to complain to the King about your reckless delinquency."

"I- I- I don't know," Zuko said, taking a step back.

"And now you're thinking of running away. A fine gentleman, indeed. Hit and run, then! Go on!"

Zuko stopped his retreat and stood rooted to the spot, wishing he could just sink into the ground as passerby turned to stare at the pair of them, some glaring at the young woman for her loud mouth, others sympathizing with her and glaring at Zuko.

"P-please. I-I work at a tea shop. Please, if you follow me," he said, bowing profusely even if she couldn't see, "I'd be happy to make you a pot of tea. Perhaps you'd like some cake as well?"

The girl frowned and her aggressive posture softened. "A tea shop? You're just a grunt?"

Zuko stuttered. "I- My uncle is the tea master? I guess we're, uh." He didn't quite want to call his uncle a grunt.

The girl folded her arms. "Stop bowing so much. You're causing a breeze. Which tea shop is this?"

"The Jasmine Dragon."

The girl huffed. "Fine. I'm busy now, but I expect a pot of tea on the house when I come by tomorrow. Stop bowing!"

"Yes! Sorry. I will let my uncle know."

"Oh really? 'Hey, Uncle! If you see an ugly little blind girl, I owe her tea.' I think not! My name is Toph Beifong, and I expect you to introduce me as such. Stop bowing!"

Zuko screwed his eyes shut, cursing himself. "Yes, Miss Beifong."

Miss Beifong squinted suspiciously at the space next to his head, then huffed, and stalked off, carrying her skirts gracefully and weaving effortlessly through the crowd.

Zuko sagged in relief and made his way in the opposite direction to meet with Aang.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my name is New Chapter. :) And you are?

Zuko was out running errands when Miss Beifong visited the tea shop the next day. Contrary to what Zuko expected about the loud and brash noblewoman, Uncle Iroh had nothing but praise for her when he told Zuko that he had missed her.

"A very intelligent young woman! And if I'm not mistaken, by her stance, I would say she is a talented martial artist. I'm very impressed by the company you keep, Nephew."

Zuko stammered out a reply but there was nothing to do. No way he could convince his uncle that his impression of Beifong was as a foul-mouthed bad-tempered demon without coming out looking like the bad guy.

He came to the mansion that day, once more trying to be as inventive in his route as possible, wondering what Aang would make of this.

Aang laughed. A lot.

"I've met Toph! She's like that. She's exactly as you describe, but your uncle's not wrong either." He stuck his lip out and thought hard. "Actually, it's been a while since I've seen her. I got the feeling that she was avoiding me, but I don't know what I did to offend her." Spreading his arms, he gave Zuko a wide-eyed look. "Honestly, I didn't know that she _could_ be offended."

Zuko wrinkled his nose. "When was this?"

"Oh, years ago. I know her from all the fancy parties I have to attend as a tutor for the nobility. We used to get along rather well, but then she stopped showing up. Or if she showed up, she'd give me the cold shoulder. Monosyllabic answers, that sort of thing." Aang laughed again, but his eyes looked sad.

"Aang... I know this was a while ago, but..." Zuko shifted uneasily in his seat, "do you think that the Dai Li might have already been interfering in your life back then?"

A noise came from the garden and he and Aang both jerked, silently jumping to defensive stances.

Silence.

They waited, but no further sound drifted in through the screen door.

"Stay here," Aang breathed so quietly Zuko barely heard him. "I'll go check it out. If it sounds like trouble, try to dodge out of sight and hide."

"Will yo-"

" _ALRIGHT, FINE!_ " came a loud voice from outside and the back door slammed open.

Zuko and Aang yelled and both jumped back, clinging to each other to keep their feet under them.

In the door stood Toph Beifong.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM, double update! Bet you thought I'd leave you hanging with that tiny stub, eh?
> 
> (He says, knowing full well he leaves you guys hanging with tiny stubs _all the fucking time._ )

"It _was_ the Dai Li," she said, striding in with heavy steps, and sitting herself without preamble at the table.

She tapped her hand on the surface of the table, and reached with impeccable precision for one of the peaches Aang had brought with him.

Biting into it, she continued talking with her mouth full. "They came to my house one day all, 'Stay away from Aang or you will be taken into custody and your parents will be notified of your presence in the city.' Boy, they couldn't have come up with a better threat. The only thing worse than living in Ba Sing Se is living anywhere with my parents."

She threw what was left of the peach into her mouth, made a couple bites and violently spat out the pit so that it bounced off a wall and clanged loudly into a nearby decorative vase.

Zuko and Aang continued to cling to each other.

"Um," Aang began meekly, "Toph, since we're meeting in secret from the Dai Li, maybe you can try to not make so much noise?"

Toph rolled her eyes, but spoke at a lower volume. "Fine. As you command, Twinkletoes."

"What are you even doing here?" asked Zuko.

"I followed you," replied Toph, digging in her ear with her pinky. "I didn't really believe you last night when you said you were a tea shop employee. You don't really carry yourself like a peasant. I thought I was right on the money when you wandered into this swanky neighborhood, but to my surprise you climbed through the _fence_. Pffffff." She started laughing and gasped through tears of mirth, "I thought it was the funniest thing ever that I had run into a thief on his way to rob some stuffy nobles, but then you threw me for another loop when you started talking to _THIS GUY_." Toph enthusiastically gestured to Aang like he was a punchline. "You didn't talk about anything interesting, though, so I thought I'd try again today. Here I am."

Aang let out a heavy breath and pulled Zuko with him to sit at the table.

"Wow," he said, looking at Zuko with raised brows. "This is really starting to get interesting."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking recently that if I get through the whole of TJD without giving up/going on a six-month hiatus again, I'll try writing my next fic in German. Pray for me and all the poor actual German speakers who'll get excited to read a new fic in their native language, and discover....... _that._ instead.
> 
> Makes you really feel for all the English learners that are struggling to try to bang out some fic in English, eh? I can't fucking imagine. А вы-то, что будете делать, если я перейду на русский? RIP IN PIECES, that's what.
> 
> This A/N is getting away from me. I just finished writing chapter 37 and deserve to go to bed. What will you do, _what could you possibly do,_ if one day I post a new chapter where the A/N is longer than the chapter? You'd have no choice. You'd have to fight me. Just like Zuko, as you will see in this chapter, has no choice. He has to fight Toph.
> 
> Thank you for your comments. It's nice to take breaks between chapters to read and reread recent comments. :)

Toph wasn't exactly invited to their meetings, but she showed up every night anyway.

The strangest consequence of this development is that Zuko got his ass handed to him by a girl who wasn't his precocious sister for the first time in his life. He hadn't been seeking a fight to begin with, he'd only thought she might be flattered to know that Iroh had sized her up to be a good martial artist. That she immediately accused him of not believing his uncle came as a surprise, and that an over enthusiastic Aang forcibly pushed him into an impromptu sparring match held in a hastily cleared formal guest-reception room felt about as unreal as the disassociation he'd thought he'd been cured of.

Long story short...

Toph absolutely cleaned the floor with him.

He'd limped back with very little of his dignity as a skilled warrior left intact.

"What happened to you?" asked his uncle when he finally wearily dragged himself into their apartment.

"Miss Beifong is about as good as you suspected," replied Zuko and went straight to bed without undressing.

The next morning, Iroh carved out time from their firebending for a light sparring match, and the day after, they began reviewing fighting forms in earnest.

Zuko was not quite ready for the revelation that his uncle was _also_ much more competent, at his advanced age, than he looked. After a few bouts, Zuko had the sneaking suspicion that the only reason Uncle Iroh did _not_ smear him across the walls was because he didn't want to show off just how competent he was, and because he was rather happy to keep their home neat and free of any unsightly dents. He looked at his uncle, so serene in the tea shop, content with his lot in life, and couldn't quite reconcile him with the serious and unyielding glint he saw in his uncle's eyes during morning training. Dragon of the West, eh?

"I wonder if Katara would join us if she knew we had a safe place to meet," Aang mused one evening at their secret mansion.

Zuko frowned. "I thought you said she was too proper for rule-breaking. She could sell us out."

Aang's brows drew together in alarm. "I couldn't possibly have said that, Zuko. She was afraid, just like you. The only difference is that you eventually came looking for me. But you did so because you know about the war and because you were worried about people like Yun-Li. Katara might not be as aware of how bad things are. She's a good person, Zuko."

Zuko sighed and said nothing, looking at Toph for support. She, naturally, had no idea he was looking at her and continued messing with the chunk of metal she was bending in her hands.

Aang followed his gaze. "What do you think, Toph? Should we try to reach out to Katara?" he asked.

Toph snorted. "Little Miss Prissy is the last thing I need in this clubhouse."

Aang groaned and threw his hands up. "What's up with you two? What did Katara ever do to you?"

"Well, she's very bossy," said Toph, "which makes me want to punch her." Then, after a brief pause and a smirk, she added, "And Zuko's just jealous of her."

Zuko stuck his leg out to kick her under the low table. She swiftly kicked him back, and he doubled over to rub his shin.

"Really, why?" asked Aang, looking between them.

"'Katara this, Katara that, blah blah, she's so nice, we should get her to join us,'" mocked Toph. "'Sure, Zuko, you were the first to join me because of your undying love for me, but what if we got _Katara_ to come hang out?'"

Zuko buried his red face in his hands. "Toph, literally shut the fuck up."

Toph started making kissy noises.

Zuko stood.

"Listen," he said, ignoring Toph, "we can invite anyone we want. I can drag my uncle to these meetings if you like. But it doesn't change the fact that we're not accomplishing anything, we're just sitting around and aimlessly discussing world peace. What good is that?"

Having said his thoughts on the matter, Zuko turned on his heel and made for the door.

"Zuko," said Aang, rather quietly, "isn't it enough for the time being that we're supporting each other and feel comfortable enough to speak our minds here? How can we have all the answers for how to save the world all at once?"

Zuko sighed deeply.

He stopped at the door, knowing that years ago, he would have simply continued with his intention to stomp out.

Looking at Aang behind him, he admitted, "It _is_ enough. It's great. But I need to go get some sleep."

Still looking sad but nodding in understanding, Aang smiled slightly and waved as Zuko went out.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All these "his uncle"/"Uncle Iroh" capitalization woes are going to be the end of me. Luckily, in this house, we still post new chapters first, haphazardly stumble across things that need correcting later. Cons: Y'all who are keeping up with the new chapters see all my errors and bad phrasings in their full glory. Pros: Y'all see anything at ALL and the whole fic isn't locked one thousand leagues deep in proofreading procrastination.
> 
> So far no one's tried to murder me in comments for my crimes against the English language, so I feel we have a good thing going here. 🖤
> 
> Frankly, the more I write Toph the more I'm puzzled why she's not my protagonist and why this fic's main pairing isn't TophxToph. I'm interpreting this as a sure sign of a well-written side character.

Zuko had cooled off by the next day.

His first thought that morning had been that Aang's words had sounded very similar to what Iroh had been saying all along. It was best, in their situation, to find support and allies, to build up their strength and keep their eyes and ears open.

Although it felt like a lot of sitting around and doing nothing, seeing Aang and Toph in the evenings gave him a sense of purpose, a feeling that there was something in the world worth striving for.

After a good sparring match with Iroh and a peaceful day at work, Zuko knew that there was nothing he'd rather do than go see his friends.

And maybe apologize for being rude.

...at least to Aang; it was unlikely that Toph cared either way.

He opened the back door to their mansion and came face to face with Sokka.

"H-hi," he said.

Sokka regarded him coolly, his arms crossed. "So you're another one of the delinquents?"

Zuko stood and stared, not having anything to reply.

Voices further in the house drew his attention. At the table, Aang and Katara were talking happily, and, leaning on one elbow, lounged Toph, smirking in Zuko's direction.

"Hi, Zuko! Come on in," she yelled, waving lazily.

Aang jumped up. "Zuko! Look who's here!" He gestured at Katara. "Toph went by their house and explained everything to them. They agreed to come see us!"

Zuko glared at Toph, who grinned with perfect certainty that he was looking at her.

"Hello, Katara," he mumbled.

Katara waved to him nervously. "Hi, Zuko. It's nice to meet you again."

Zuko eyed Sokka, who waved halfheartedly, and, looking like he was giving up on stubbornly intending to leave at any moment, slouched, sitting down next to his sister.

"So," said Zuko, "what now?"

"Katara and Sokka also don't know anything about the war!" said Aang excitedly, gesturing for Zuko to come sit. "They were hoping you and Toph would tell them about it."

"I think Toph should start," intoned Zuko, sitting down, "since she's _such_ a social butterfly."

Toph, continuing to look mighty pleased with herself, sat up, and began telling Katara and Sokka about the war as she herself remembered news of it from when she had lived outside Ba Sing Se.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'll post the next chapter when I sit down to write again," he said to himself. But he did not, in fact, sit down to write again.
> 
> Instead, he remembered that in 2016, he so very desperately wanted to paint a Galra orgy party, but like... wasn't good enough to pull it off. And in 2020, he's actually... really fucking good. So he's been painting a Galra orgy party. I don't even have any good place to post it thanks to tumblr's porn ban. It's just going to sit on my computer. It's literally just for me. For little baby 2016 me who wasn't sure if he'd ever be "good enough." We be making our dreams come true in this here 2020 space. We've always been good enough, we just didn't always know how to believe it.
> 
> I'm glad I skimmed this chapter before posting, because apparently I'd written Aang as standing "with his hands on his feet." Thanks, drunk me.

"Let me help you clean things up!" said Katara, moving the table back to where it had been.

She'd just straightened up, however, when Toph took her by the elbow and began pulling her to the door.

"A lady," said Toph, "does not sling furniture around. Let Aang and Zuko take care of it. We might as well go home."

"You were slinging around more furniture than everyone else _combined_ ," Sokka pointed out incredulously, already hot on their heels to leave.

Katara hurriedly called out a goodbye as she was ushered out by the bickering duo.

Zuko kept struggling with the giant potted plant, really more of a tree, that Toph had easily kicked aside before proceeding to kick Sokka's ass when they had all been sparring earlier. Having finally gotten it back to its original spot, Zuko sagged against it wearily.

"How does she _do_ it? _How_ does she have that much muscle in her tiny evil body?" he asked rhetorically, then turned to Aang, who was returning some cushions and decorations to their proper places. "And why do we keep fixing the room? We're only going to mess it up again the next day, and the next day, _and_ the next day."

Aang snickered. "A housekeeper might show up during the day. Best to leave as little trace as possible, just in case it helps us avoid setting off any alarms and getting in trouble."

Despite insisting that it was just to avoid getting caught, Aang picked up a broom when he was finished and began sweeping. Zuko was fairly certain that a housekeeper would expect to see the house somewhat dusty from disuse, not perfectly tidy. He suspected that Aang also just really liked to see spaces neat and cared for.

He sat himself on the low table and watched Aang work, lost in vague formless half-thoughts.

Setting aside his broom, Aang finally stopped his busy work and stood himself in front of Zuko, hands on his hips and kicking the floor awkwardly.

"Listen," he said, not looking at Zuko, "I remember that you're not much for crowds and groups. That time at the festival, you looked like your soul was ready to depart your body when you thought I was inviting you to hang out with Katara and Sokka again. I get the feeling that even having Toph around puts you on edge. But... I like them. They're good people, Zuko. They're like you and me. They want more. And did you see the way Sokka held his own against Toph?"

Zuko nodded. Sokka lacked some finesse, and from personal experience sparring with her, he could tell that Toph was going easy on him, but he was pretty damn good nonetheless.

Aang looked up. "I don't think it's a coincidence that there's so many people that I'm allowed to talk to freely, so many people I am expected to train for hours at a time, but the Dai Li had a problem with me talking to you and them, even just very briefly.

"The people I train, they're nobility. They're good. They've been tutored since they were children. But they're not like you guys. They don't have your creative and adaptive reactions. I don't know where you all got it from, but it means _something_."

Zuko nodded.

Aang shrugged one shoulder and smiled sheepishly. "Is there some kind of compromise we can come to? Maybe one day of the week, it'll be just you and me, hanging out?"

"No! _No_ , it's fine." Zuko said, also standing and waving his hands. "It's not a problem. I'm just... shy, I guess. Or," he scratched his temple, blushing slightly, "I've just always been less outgoing than most people."

"That's what I'm saying, Zuko," Aang said, and reached forward to press Zuko's right hand between his two palms. "I'm happy you're my friend. If you prefer something a little quieter, we can figure that something out."

Zuko stared at Aang's warm hands, his face burning.

"I... I'd like that."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be the perfect chance to write an A/N longer than the chapter, but _very annoyingly,_ I'm drawing a total blank.

The next day, Aang made an announcement that they would take a day off from meeting every fifth day, and their first break would be tomorrow.

Toph grumbled that it was about time she got an evening to herself and she didn't know why the hell Aang thought he could monopolize the time of an important young lady this way.

Zuko stared at her, wondering what the hell she even did in her free time, but otherwise realizing that he had gotten quite fond of her sarcastic humor during their time together.

There were no other complaints, so after some sparring and some discussion of the war, everyone said goodbye and wished each other a good day away from club.

Zuko couldn't sleep half the night, remembering the way Aang had held his hand and thinking about having his friend all to himself the next evening.

It's not that Zuko had a complex about being shy, but... growing up with Azula, under his father's eye, had been hard on his sensitive nature. Anything and everything, from his close relationship with their mother, to his preferring to play alone, to his love for quietly watching the turtle ducks, had been a point of ridicule if not outright contention.

Okay, so yes, he probably had a complex, which is why Aang's meeting him on his own terms meant the whole world and more. Zuko realized, as he lay in bed, that this sort of agreement to meet alone is precisely _why_ he had felt so drawn to Aang in the first place.

Aang saw _him_.

Aang liked Zuko as he was, even if Zuko's preferences and comfort zone didn't fit in neatly within an efficient schedule of maximum interaction with everyone.

Flushed with happiness and vulnerable embarrassment so hard he teared up a little, Zuko was both incredibly excited and dreadfully terrified of the next evening.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hail Satan; make the Yuletide gay! ~~Amen.~~ Flameo, hotman.

Zuko had made tea from his uncle's shop and they sat sipping it at the table, talking just like old times before Toph had joined them and inevitably made physical and verbal sparring a staple of the evening agenda.

Zuko spun his tea cup in his hands, searching his brains for a new topic they hadn't covered yet. He had one thing he was dying to ask, but he wasn't sure where to even begin.

"Can I ask," Aang's quiet words cut through his thoughts, "about your scar?"

Zuko looked up and was surprised to see Aang hold his gaze solidly without looking away abashedly.

He sighed. "It was done with firebending. A punishment for... acting out of turn. I questioned something I shouldn't have."

Aang nodded and they fell silent again.

"Did..." Aang picked up again. "Did you ask something you shouldn't have, or something you _should_ have but were forbidden to?"

Zuko snorted and smiled. "That's hard to say. I know, theoretically, that I should have asked it, and if the opportunity presents itself, I should ask such questions again. But... I've apologized and repented so much for it that I've often found myself believing that I did in fact do something wrong that day." He sighed and briefly massaged the dense tissue, hating how heavy it felt in the colder months. "Actually, it's only _now_ that I really can admit to myself that I didn't do anything wrong that day, after many many years have passed."

Aang's hand haltingly reached for his. Zuko suppressed a shiver as Aang's dry warm fingers closed around his and squeezed reassuringly.

"Thank you for telling me."

Zuko nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I actually also had... a question."

"About my tattoos?"

"Yeah."

Aang sighed but didn't pull his hand away so Zuko returned the fortifying squeeze.

"Well. I don't know much about them, to be honest. I don't remember my parents. But these tattoos are something they had done to me when I was very little. They're a... clan marking of sorts." Aang tapered off, swallowing hard, dark emotions floating across his face. "My parents were from a clan of professional theives, and these are the marks they bore. I guess they assumed I'd grow up like them. But when they passed through Ba Sing Se, a nobleman saw me and paid them to adopt me as his own."

Zuko stared in shock.

"I'm very fortunate," said Aang, smiling gently at Zuko. "I was raised in a nice home with a nice family and now have a very respectable trade. If it wasn't for that chance encounter, who knows what sort of life I'd be leading now. But I _do_ have to cover up the tattoos if I want to continue my peaceful life here and not be forced out into the lower Rings… or driven out of the city altogether."

Zuko didn't have anything to say to that, but he reached his other hand to enclose Aang's between his palms and squeezed tight.

Aang laughed. "It's alright, Zuko! I was just scared you'd… think less of me before you got to know me."

"I could never," Zuko said seriously, surprising Aang with the force of his words. "I already knew the type of person you were before that festival. And you're undoubtedly the best kind there is."

Aang joined his left hand to their clasped fingers and smiled. "Thanks, Zuko. I'm glad to have met you."


End file.
